


Geborgenheit

by ScooBiNatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ace Character discovering his sexuality, Ace Character in a relationship with a very sexual character, Ace Lucifer, Ace character, Angel Wings, Angels can Materialise their wings, Asexual Character in a sexual situation, Bi Dean, Bottom Lucifer (Supernatural), Good Boyfriend Dean, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, It makes the fluff even better, It's fluffier than Lucifer's wings, Lucifer's wings, M/M, Possibly the fluffiest thing I've ever written, S13 AU, Supportive boyfriend dean, This isn't sad, Wing Kink, and this is very fluffy, dean is bi, did i mention all the fluff?, healthy relationship, looooots of fluff, okay maybe it's just a little bit but it's just for flavour, pretty wings, season 13, which are in this fic, wholesome relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooBiNatural/pseuds/ScooBiNatural
Summary: Geborgenheit(n.) to feel completely safe, like nothing could ever harm you; security, comfort, trust, satisfaction, acceptance and love from others.





	Geborgenheit

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Resilience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080944) by [ScooBiNatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooBiNatural/pseuds/ScooBiNatural). 



> Disclaimer: I'm not personally Ace, though I did do my research and ask for lots of opinions from people who are. If anything about this offends you, please let me know, and I'll do my best to make it better. The last thing I want to do is misrepresent anyone <3

"Hey, Dean?" 

The hunter turned his head at the unusually timid voice, surprised to see that yes, that  _did_  come from Lucifer. He's not sure who else it could've come from, since they're the only two people left in the bunker, but part of him was  _certain_  that couldn't have been Lucifer's voice. 

The Archangel had kind of wiggled himself into Team Free Will 2.0 after pulling off an escape from Asmodeus with Castiel. At first, they just let him stay because none of them quite knew how to get rid of him. He wasn't causing them any trouble for once, so they focused on the bigger issues, like Michael's evil twin, Asmodeus taking over as the new King of Hell, and getting everyone (their mother in particular) back to their right Universe. He even kinda helped, actually. And beyond that, if Dean's being honest with himself, he really liked having someone around who laughs at his jokes. Even if that someone is Satan.  

Getting a huge chunk of his grace stolen from him really brought Lucifer back down a few pegs, and being a father on top of that turned him into a pretty likeable person, actually. He absolutely adores Jack, much to everyone's surprise, and he spoils his son at every opportunity. He's actually a pretty good dad, by Dean's standards. He's supportive, happy to help his son out whenever he needs it, and as far as Dean's seen, he hasn't tried to push his own visions/aspirations onto his son. 

He's not sure when exactly it started, or how they went from enemies, to allies, to friends, to more-than-friends in a few months. He just knows that at some point, Dean realised that he'd rather have Lucifer around than not. He's the one person in this ragtag little family who laughs at his jokes, likes his music, and is as passionate about ganking monsters as he is, among many other things.  

And, since Sam has no memories of his time in the cage, Lucifer is the only one of them who knows what it's like to go through hell, to be broken, and to still be picking up the pieces. And even beyond that, Lucifer once bore the mark, and knows how it can twist your mind, make you hate yourself and everything around you, and he knows what a scar it leaves on your mind and soul now that it's gone. Don't get him wrong, Dean is endlessly grateful for Sam's concern and support, and for Castiel's too, but Lucifer  _understands._ He doesn't pry, doesn't look at Dean with pity in his eyes... and when Dean wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, he knows that what Dean needs isn't for someone to ask him about it, it's for someone to just tell him it's okay, he's safe now, and to stay up with him for an hour or so, have a beer, watch an episode of 'Thrones, and take his mind as  _far_  away from that nightmare as possible. 

It's really nice to have someone who will help you pick up your broken pieces if only you'll do the same for them. Especially if that someone shares your tastes. 

Anyways, that's all way off topic. Right now, Lucifer is standing just inside the kitchen entryway, putting all of Dean's nerves on edge with that  _completely_  wrong tone. Lucifer's probably been through more Hell than Dean has, but in all the years he's known the Devil, he's never sounded  _timid_  before, so when Dean hears that tone in his voice, he finds himself instantly curious, and more than a bit concerned. 

"Yeah? What's up, Luce?" 

As he watches, Lucifer shifts on his feet a bit, and Dean can physically  _see_  him change his mind before he finally responds. "Do you know when Castiel will be back? I need his help." 

Dean shakes his head, his curiosity really piqued now. First he's unsure of himself, and now he's openly admitting that he needs help from someone else? That isn't Dean? What alternate universe did this guy come from? 'Cause this certainly isn't  _his_  Lucifer. "I'm not sure, but my guess would be late tomorrow. Why? What do you need help with?" 

When he predicts they won't be back until tomorrow, the uncertainty returns to Lucifer's body language, and Dean can't help but wonder,  _what_  has gotten his angel all in a twist? 

"It's an... angel thing. I don't suppose Castiel has ever asked you for help with something like that?" 

Again, Dean shakes his head, but this time he stands up from the kitchen table to face Lucifer properly, setting his coffee mug down. "Not that I can remember. But if you need help now, I'll do my best. I'm a fast learner." 

Lucifer looks like he's about to decline, but as he starts to shake his head, he kind of half-winces, briefly reconsiders, and then sighs. "I can wait, but I'd rather not, if you're willing to give me a hand... Has Cassie ever shown you his wings?" 

At that question, Dean gives a little internal sigh of relief. From Lucifer's tone, he was worried that this might be a breakup, or something. And... he's realised he really doesn't want that to happen. "Yeah, I mean, I've seen the shadows of a few angels' wings. Is that what you mean?" 

"Not quite. I mean manifesting the physical wings themselves, feathers and everything. Shadows are usually as close as we bring them to this dimension. For good reason, too. They can be fragile here, so we generally don't like to risk anyone else touching them; even among other angels." 

Dean blinks,  _definitely_  interested in seeing what an angel's wings really look like.  _Especially_  Lucifer's. "I didn't even know that was something you could do. Is it like seeing your true form? Will I need some kind of protection if I look at them?" 

Lucifer relaxes a bit at that, snorting at the questions and immediately regretting it as some unseen injury pains him. "Dean, you're helping me re-locate my wing, we're not having sex." 

"I didn't--" Dean can't help as his cheeks go a little red from embarrassment. "Wait, you dislocated your wing?  _How_?" 

And now, it's Lucifer's turn to look embarrassed. "Don't laugh, okay...? I was trying to groom my wings because I haven't done it in... a while... and I couldn't quite reach this feather that needed to come out and I yanked a bit too hard, and then fell off the bed and... mistakes were made." He pauses, and Dean does his best to keep a straight face while trying to imagine it. It's not that he thinks Lucifer dislocating his wing is funny; it's more the thought of Lucifer struggling to reach behind his back sounds totally adorable, and he's sorry he missed it. "I probably should've just had Castiel get it for me later... but I'm impatient. And now I really can't get this fixed on my own, and it hurts like hell, so do you mind helping me out and never telling anyone else about this ever?" 

Dean blinks, and then nods. He manages  _not_  to laugh, by some miracle, but can't hold back a little smile. "Sure, I don't mind, babe. But um, how do I...?" 

Lucifer understands his question without him needing to finish it. "It's kinda like an extra arm. You'll see when I materialize it for you. It shouldn't be too hard to set it right again, I just can't reach it properly on my own." 

Once more, Dean nods, walking closer to Lucifer and leaving his coffee behind. Lucifer looks like he needs something nice right now, so without a word, Dean leans in to kiss him briefly before asking his question. "Do you want me to fix it here, or on the couch or something?" 

"The couch sounds like a good idea," Lucifer answers after a moment, and then leans in for another kiss. When he steps back and turns to head out of the kitchen, Dean finally realizes why he's looked so nervous this whole time. Lucifer's had his hands in front of himself, holding something close to him that Dean can't see, like an invisible tail or a blanket or something. Belatedly, Dean realizes that must be his bum wing. 

"… Are you holding your wing up?" 

"Yes." 

"How? Doesn't it... not exist here?" 

"Does the sun stop existing just because you can't see it?" 

"… no, but--" 

"Don't hurt yourself thinking about it. I'm a multidimensional being, it would take hours to explain the physics to you." 

"Whatever." If Dean rolled his eyes any harder, he might've seen his own brain. Leave it to his weird not-boyfriend to go from adorable and nervous to an obnoxious know-it-all in two seconds flat. "To the living room then, I guess." 

As Dean follows the angel out of the kitchen, he sarcastically wonders to himself about  _why_  he had to go and like  _this_  angel. He almost prays it to Lucifer just out of spite, but decides not to, since it seems like he's stressed enough as it is. The last thing he needs is Dean teasing him, too. 

He does seriously consider the point, though, and he decides that what really convinced him that Lucifer wasn't so bad, was, oddly enough,  _Jack._  

Sure, it took Dean a while to warm up to the kid, but he really likes having him around now, and he can hardly imagine what he'd do without him. He's a good kid, and it was his belief that if he's not inherently evil, then his dad isn't either, that lead to them giving Lucifer another chance. This time, he didn't waste it, and he's surprisingly good with his son. Apparently, he's got a way with kids. 

He still remembers the answer Lucifer gave him when he asked why he's so laid back regarding his son now, after literal centuries of trying to bring about the apocalypse.  

"I told you before that I didn't have a plan, that I was just smashing things because I didn't see the point in anything anymore..."he said, and Dean had nodded, wondering where he's going with this. "Well, now I  _do_  see the point. Jack is... he's my responsibility. I brought him into this world, and it's my job to make sure that when I can't be there for him anymore, he can walk on his own two feet. It took me a while, but I finally get it." 

And as if that hadn't been enough, Lucifer had kept talking, like now that he'd begun, he couldn't stop. "And I get why God left me too, even if I don't agree with his reasons. He wanted to see if his kids could stand on their own, find our  _own_  purposes. For a while... after Amara, I didn't have a place in the world anymore. I didn't have a role, or a reason to keep living. Now I do. I'm Jack's father, and my job is to do my best to teach him everything I've learned so he can do better than I did. I guess... if it seems like I'm laid back, it's just because I'm trying to do everything I wish  _my_  father had done for me. So, if Jack wants to protect you guys, and all of humanity, I'm not about to lock him in a cage and leave him there and hope he changes his mind. I'm trying to understand why he cares so much, because maybe  _I'm_  the one who's wrong. And... I'm starting to think he's right. At least, you Winchesters aren't  _so_  bad. You're starting to grow on me." And, ironically enough, he soon began to grow on them, too. 

It was a pretty speech, and one that Dean hadn't expected to hear from Lucifer. That was the first time he'd given Lucifer a hug. 

Now, he'd done an awful lot more than just hug the archangel.  

He wishes that meant he'd had sex with the blonde, but that's just about the only thing they  _haven't_  done. They sleep together, and when they're in a good mood, they trade casual kisses, they text each other almost constantly when they're separated, and personal space is practically a joke between them... 

… But they haven't had sex. Dean still sleeps with other people, and he's brought the matter up to Lucifer, and Lucifer has assured him multiple times that it doesn't bother him. In fact, the archangel was so adamant on proving he was fine with it that he dragged Dean out to a bar and played wingman for him. They've done that a couple of times now, and Dean has to say, this is the weirdest long-term relationship he's ever been in. But it's also kinda nice to be able to get out his sexual urges on whoever's handy, knowing he has a partner waiting for him at home who's secure enough in their relationship to not get jealous or upset with him for doing so. 

Still, it makes Dean nervous. Since Middle School, he hasn't  _been_  in a relationship that didn't involve sex. And while he likes that he can do mushy couple-things with Lucifer and not have to worry if Lucifer is feeling it when he's horny... the complete lack of sex freaks him out a little. What kind of couple doesn't have a roll in the hay every once in a while? Is he not attractive enough for Lucifer? Is it because he's human? Is Lucifer scared of doing it with a guy? He knows Lucifer isn't a virgin; Jack is proof enough of that. So why haven't they taken it further yet? 

True, they've only been 'together' for a couple weeks, maybe Lucifer just likes to take things slow, but Dean still finds it kinda unnerving, when he typically sleeps with his conquests on the first date. 

He pushes that worry down for now though, because he's got a slightly more urgent problem to deal with right now. Namely, Lucifer's wing. 

It took them a while to make their way to the bunker's only comfortable couch, mostly because Lucifer moved very gingerly the whole way there. Getting the angel situated correctly on said couch was no easy task either. Dean couldn't really blame him though. He can't imagine having a dislocated wing is a pleasant feeling, and he'd be wary of jostling it too, in Lucifer's position.  

Eventually, they found a way that worked, with Lucifer facing the back of the couch, seated Indian style, and Dean standing behind him.  "Alright," Dean claps his hands together, "let's get this show on the road, so we can get you some ice cream and watch a movie, or something." 

"Ice Cream? I like the sound of that," the angel responds warmly, "Just... hold on." Again, Dean senses reluctance in his tone, and it's practically jarring. Lucifer rarely sounds anything less than totally sure of himself, so to see him off-balance like this is, to put it lightly, a shock. He never would've guessed that an angel's wings were such a sensitive topic. 

He watches as Lucifer takes a deep breath, maybe to help bring out his wings, or maybe just to calm his nerves, who knows. 

He probably should have expected it, but it catches Dean off-guard anyways when he sees Lucifer reach for the edge of his white t-shirt and start to pull it up, tugging it off with obvious difficulty and pain. Normally, he'd be 100% down for this, but right now, it just surprises him. He's seen Lucifer shirtless before, but it's not a common occurrence. "Whoah, hold on, Luce, why're you--"  

Dean cuts himself off as he realizes why Lucifer's taking his shirt off, but the archangel answers him anyways. "I  _like_  this shirt," it's one of his, Dean notices with some satisfaction, "I'd rather not rip a couple of holes in it. That's why." Even though what he says is firm, even a little sassy, the blonde hesitates when Dean protests, and the tone lacks its usual snark.  _Weird._  

And Dean doesn't really care, of course... but this is getting really weird, even for him. "Are you okay?" 

"… No, I dislocated my wing. Keep up, Dean." 

"I know that, smartass. You're just acting... weird." 

"Yes," Lucifer responds slowly, almost like he's talking to a child, "Because I've dislocated my wing, and I'm in immense pain. That tends to make a guy act 'weird'. Can we focus? Please?" 

Dean regrets that he even bothered asking. Sure, he's not the poster child for talking about your feelings, but Lucifer doesn't have to be so ornery about it. "Fine, don't tell me then," he huffs, taking a step back. 

Lucifer mumbles something Dean doesn't catch, and then straightens a bit more like he's bracing himself. "Like ripping off a band-aid," he whispers to himself, and this time Dean does catch it. The shirt is pulled the rest of the way off and discarded to the side, and again, he takes one of those deep, slow breaths that makes his whole back expand and contract.  

Dean isn't sure what he expected, but it sure wasn't what he got. He was standing about a foot behind Lucifer, but it almost wasn't far enough back, when the massive black wings came into existence with a sort of 'pop-whoosh' sound. Kinda like the noise a glass jar of jam makes when you open it for the first time. It's followed by the suddenly  _constant_  soft rustling of feathers as the wings shift and try to find a comfortable way to fit in the room. 

Dean jumped a few steps backwards as the space between him and Lucifer went from empty to decidedly  _not_  in an instant. "Fuck!" 

"You might want to stand back," Lucifer says belatedly, with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

Dean glares at the archangel's back for a second before responding. "You coulda warned me sooner, asshole." 

"I could have," Lucifer agrees with an infuriating smile that Dean just  _knows_  is there, "but what would be the fun in that?" 

The hunter is half-tempted to punch him, but he can only see that ending badly, so he refrains. "Yeah? Well, we'll see how much fun you have when I put your wing back in place. Hold still." 

That seems to shut Lucifer up for a moment, and Dean takes the chance to actually take a good look at the wings in front of him. They're set a bit lower on Lucifer's back than he expected them to be, just below his shoulder-blades. They're further apart than he expected, too, just shy of the edges of his chest. He saw what Lucifer meant, too, about them being like extra arms. With the wings, came bony ridges across his mid-back that seemed capable of independent movement as well, like a weird set of shoulders. And like his arm, the wing sprouted from the end of that shoulder, evidently designed to rotate and have a full, 360° range of motion. 

The wing itself was bent into three main segments, but Dean hardly noticed anything about its structure beyond that, because wait-- those feathers aren't just black anymore... 

Now that he's looking for it, Dean notices the slight flashes of iridescent colours that run across the feathers whenever the bunker's fluorescent lighting catches them as the healthy wing shifts and twitches. The dislocated wing is mostly still, mainly because Lucifer is holding it tightly to keep it that way. The other wing, however, seems incapable of staying in one place for long, and continually twitches and shifts, making Dean think of when someone doesn't know where to put their hands in an awkward situation. 

The sheen kinda looks like... oil on water; all blues and pinks and purples, with the occasional flash of green or red. It holds Dean's attention fully, making him gawk until Lucifer clears his throat. "Hey, sometime today, please?" 

The unharmed—and ungroomed, Dean notices, now that he's less busy admiring the feathers' colouration—wing finally stills, seeming to decide that it wants to stay folded up, pulling the whole appendage tightly in on itself and pressing against his back. After speaking up, Lucifer lets go of the other wing, letting it slowly go limp, stretched out on the couch and to the floor. 

Dean thinks he hears a slight hiss of pain, but it's so small that he could have imagined it. It's unlikely that he did though, just looking at the dislocated joint is enough to make him internally cringe. "I'm on it, Luce. Just... give me a second, this is crazy _._ Are the bones hollow? Will I break something if I press too hard?" 

"I doubt you're capable of applying enough force," Lucifer replies patiently. "And the bones aren't hollow; they don't exist. My wings are made of pure grace; what you're seeing is just the form they take in this dimension. But yes, they can break. They're exponentially easier to break when they're on this plane of existence, which is why us angels avoid having them here at all costs. However, they're also significantly easier to groom and to fix in this dimension, so, that's the trade-off." 

As he speaks, Dean reaches out, hesitant to touch the dislocated wing. It looks more fragile than he expected, despite how Lucifer warned him. It's more than it just being dislocated; the wings themselves look thin, the muscles along the limb look scrawny, and Dean isn't sure how angel wings should look, but he's pretty sure this isn't it. It takes him a second, but then he realises what the bony limbs remind him of—; a paralyzed person's legs. Like they've gone unused for so long that the muscles have just... wasted away.  

It makes Dean sad, since that's more than likely an accurate description of what happened to them. He doubts there's much room to fly in the Cage. And there's certainly not much reason to.  

It's still a weird feeling, having sympathy for Lucifer, after so many years of him being their enemy. But since they've become friends (and more), every now and then it just really hits Dean—how tragic Lucifer's story is. Now is one of those times. 

He thought the  _shadows_  of Castiel's wings looked painful... but this is on another level entirely. It's not just wounds sustained during battle—honourable, pride-worthy scars—it's years and years— _centuries—_ of neglect and abuse. The sight is made even worse by the old burns and scarring he can see near the base of the wings, where there's fewer feathers. He's sure that if he looked under the deceptively beautiful feathers covering the rest of the wings, he'd see the full extent of it. The thought makes him want to punch Chuck in his jerk face. (Dean knows that punching God wouldn't fix the problem... but it would sure make him feel better.) 

The archangel said he probably can't break it, but Dean worries anyways, and he wonders if maybe he should have just 'gotten it over with' before he thought about it too much, like he originally suggested. 

He knows that he's taking too long, staring too much at the large—but simultaneously feeble—wings. 

Lucifer's voice interrupts his thoughts again, this time quieter, and less abrasive. "I can feel your sympathy, Dean. I don't want it. Pity won't make it better. Now, please... just, help me." 

Dean always forgets that prayer is a thing with Lucifer and Castiel; particularly Lucifer. And maybe it's just Dean, but it seems like the latter picks up on just about any kind of thought or feeling aimed at him. It's kinda freaky, to be honest. But useful, too. 

"… Yeah, okay. Um, tell me if it feels like I'm doing something wrong." 

"Oh, believe me, I'll let you know." 

With that somewhat morbid assurance, Dean shakes off his reluctance, and puts his hand on the wing, getting a firm grip on the limb, and putting his other hand on Lucifer's back to both keep him steady, and to help him tilt the rotator cuff back into the correct position. Lucifer hisses in discomfort, but other than that, doesn't stop Dean. 

The wing feels softer than he would expect, the feathers as smooth as velvet against his fingers. And it's light, too, not at all like he had assumed. He's as gentle as he can be about re-aligning the wing to be popped back into place, but Lucifer is obviously struggling to hide how much moving it hurts. He was sitting up straight when they began, but as Dean begins to move the wing, Lucifer leans forward until his forehead is pressed into the back of the couch, and Dean has to push on his back to keep him from moving any more and making it worse. Of course, Lucifer is probably strong enough that it doesn't matter, but despite that, his efforts seem to be effectively achieving their goal. 

When Dean has the limb situated how he wants it, he tells Lucifer that he might want to hold onto something. In response, the angel reaches his hand behind him, and Dean sacrifices the hand keeping Lucifer's back steady to hold it. Instead, he shifts his weight a bit and puts his foot up on the edge of the couch so that he can keep Lucifer steady with a knee pressed against his back. 

Once the angel looks like he's braced, Dean pushes the wing back into place as quickly as he can. He doesn't count down or give Lucifer any kind of verbal warning, knowing that the less tense Lucifer is, the less it'll hurt. 

Even so, Lucifer doesn't manage to hold back a shout of pain. Dean almost joins him as the life is practically squeezed from his hand. Lucifer must've cut off his angelic strength though, because he doesn't break any bones. 

Dean stays where he is as the other wing reflexively unfurls and knocks the side table over, and beats the air once before Lucifer pulls it back in. The archangel stays still for a second more before he lets go of Dean's hand. Dean takes that as the signal to move out of the way, and as he does, Lucifer straightens up and tentatively tries to move the formerly dislocated wing. He hisses a bit, but successfully gets it to move in a full rotation, and then he pulls it in as well, folded up neatly along with the other. 

Once he's tested it out, he leans back until he's resting his head on Dean's abs, and then he tilts his head back to look at Dean with a mixture of gratitude and pain on his face. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver, Dean-o. What would I do without you?" The question is asked with a joking tone, but Dean answers it seriously anyways. 

"Hurt yourself 'cause you're too good to ask me for help, apparently," the hunter responds, and while it may be a little harsh, he's only saying it because he's worried it'll happen again. "Why didn't you ask sooner? And don't tell me you were worried I'd hurt you, because you  _just_  said I'm not strong enough to." 

Lucifer leans forward again, not meeting Dean's eyes. He doesn't look nervous anymore, rather, he seems to be ashamed now. "It's not that. I know you wouldn't hurt me... I just... I didn't want you to see how hideous they are, even when they  _aren't_  an ungroomed mess." As he answers, his voice gets quieter, until Dean's straining to hear what he's saying. 

"Hideous?" That's the  _last_  word Dean would think of to describe Lucifer's wings. "You think they're ugly?" 

"I..." Dean can hear the frown in Lucifer's voice, though he still refuses to look at Dean. "Don't pretend you weren't thinking it too. I felt... I felt the way you pitied me. They're horrible, ruined, scarred... Hell turned them  _black_ , how could you think they're anything  _but_  ugly?" And after a second, he continues in a much quieter voice, "Sam thought I was repulsive... I scared him, I don't want to scare you." 

Oh man... Where does Dean even begin to tell Lucifer how wrong that all is? He understands where his worries are coming from, but still, the thought of  _injuries,_ and  _scars_ making  _him_ , of all people, no longer want Lucifer just... It rubs him the wrong way. He chews his lip for a second, assessing the can of worms he just unwittingly opened. Who knew Lucifer was so insecure about his wings? (Or, more accurately, his true form?) 

It takes him another second or two, and then he reaches out to rest a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, just by his neck. "That's not at all what I was thinking, Luce... let me prove it to you. May I touch your wings again?" There's another hesitation, but after a second, Lucifer nods, letting his wings relax a bit and unfurl halfway. The motion kind of resembles someone letting their shoulders slump or relax, and Dean is  _really_  starting to like how expressive and  _alive_  these new appendages are. 

As he's given permission, Dean sinks down to his knees behind Lucifer, letting his hands slide down the other's bare back until it's resting gently on the joint of the wing he just fixed. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, letting his hand run flat along the arch of Lucifer's wing, until he comes across an old scar, deep enough to keep new feathers from growing over it. He runs his fingers along it slowly, feeling Lucifer shiver as he traces the jagged line. He waits to make sure Lucifer is comfortable, before he follows the touch up with a soft kiss. The wing stiffens under his lips, so Dean waits again before he keeps going, trailing a line of kisses along the old scar. 

Eventually, Lucifer can't keep his bewilderment to himself. "Dean, what...?" 

As the angel turns his head to look at him, Dean smoothly moves to meet him, catching his lips in another quick kiss. "Lucifer, look at me. Do I look disgusted?" 

The angel takes a second to answer, and Dean can tell he's trying to find a way to be difficult about it. "...No." 

"Right, because I'm not. Do you think I'm ugly because I have scars?" 

The archangel looks taken aback by the question, like he wasn't expecting it. "No, of course not. I like your scars." 

Dean nods, already knowing this. Lucifer doesn't always feel the need to sleep, so, many times now, Dean has fallen asleep to the lull of Lucifer's fingers carefully tracing the scars on his back. "Why do you like my scars?" 

"… Why are you asking me all this?" 

"Just answer, Lucifer." He can tell the angel doesn't like that, and it's a testament to how close they've grown that he doesn't argue with the unexplained order. 

He takes a breath, and then rushes his answer out, not giving himself time to overthink it. "Because... they make you unique. They show you've survived things other humans can only imagine. But mine aren't like that, mine--" 

Dean shuts Lucifer up with another kiss, and then trails kisses down Lucifer's back until he's just between the other's wings. "Yes, they are. Maybe you don't think so, but I do. My sympathy wasn't because I thought you're ugly. It's because I know you aren't, and I'm sorry any of this happened to you. I don't know how your wings looked before, and frankly, I don't care. They're the most beautiful things I've ever seen, because they're  _you_." He takes a second to let that sink in, and let Lucifer feel the sincerity of his words. "These don't belong to your vessel, they're not clothes you borrowed, they're  _yours_ , and I can't begin to tell you how amazing that is to me." His forehead is resting gently between Lucifer's wings as he talks, feeling the muscles shifting just underneath the skin as the appendages fidget, belying Lucifer's confusion. "I wish I could see all of you, so I can tell you that every inch of you is gorgeous, and your scars only show that you're strong, too." He feels the angel shiver again, remaining silent as his warm breath tickles his back. "You're the strongest person I've ever met, Luce. You should be proud to show your scars." 

They stay like that for another moment, Lucifer staying still as a statue while Dean leans quietly against his back. The hunter is almost afraid to do much more, sensing that while Lucifer isn't shying away from him, this really isn't inside his comfort zone. 

The silence is actually kinda comfortable, as unusual as it is between them. Their time is usually filled with constant – and often inane—chatter, and the difference now is both stark in comparison, and appreciated. This is a significant moment, and Dean can feel that he's taken a long stride forward with Lucifer. 

Another moment, and Dean hears a sniff from the man facing away from him, despite the other's attempt to mask it. His chest hitches too, and it's hard for Dean not to notice when he's still leaning against his back. 

Lucifer is... crying. 

Suddenly, the silence doesn't feel nearly so comfortable. 

Worrying that he's upset his not-boyfriend, Dean pulls away, pulling his hand from Lucifer's wing to stroke down his arm. "Did I say something wrong? Lucifer..." 

He trails off as the other turns to face him, and he can see that it's not sadness in the blonde's eyes, but an overwhelming amount of love and joy. The wings quickly move out of their way as Lucifer turns the rest of the way around and practically falls to the floor on top of Dean. The human is quick to wrap his arms around his angel as Lucifer and his massive feathery wings collapse on top of him.  

In the midst of a tangle of limbs and feathers, it takes Lucifer a while to finally respond to him. "You're an idiot most of the time, Dean Winchester... but sometimes you say just the right things." He pauses, finding Dean's eyes before giving him a kiss, and for the first time, saying "I love you," to him. 

The words were so sincere, so unexpected, that they just took the air right out of Dean's lungs. He didn't even care that Lucifer had called him an idiot not five seconds before. 

Dean catches his breath as he returns Lucifer's kiss, not letting the archangel pull away so quickly this time. He doesn't even need to think about his next words. "I love you too, Luce." 

The truth of those words surprises him a bit, but he doesn't even consider trying to take them back. This... has been a long time coming, and Dean's never wanted to be together with someone else as much as he wants to be with Lucifer. 

And the way the other is talking, looking at him right now... He doesn't mean to assume, but every time someone looks at him like  _that_ , Dean knows he's about to get laid. 

There aren't many more words between them for the next few moments, as they get out a bit of their pent-up energy with long, passionate kisses on the rug that neither of them want to pull away from. 

Dean knows kisses aren't going to satisfy them both for much longer though, and he also knows Lucifer isn't going to be the one to make the first move. One of his hands finds Lucifer's wing again, and he's so very glad that the archangel kept them out. His other hand starts unbuttoning his own shirt, popping the buttons quickly, one by one and then pulling the flannel open and slipping one arm out of it. 

Lucifer notices, and Dean feels him pause for a second, but only for a second before he renews their kiss, and helps Dean get his other arm out. 

Their lips part as Dean pulls his undershirt off, and Lucifer is looking down at his bare chest, a mixture of want and apprehension on his face. 

Dean decides then that maybe he should treat Lucifer like he hasn't done this before, because he's almost certain that he at least hasn't done this with a man before. He reaches up to gently trail the tips of his fingers down Lucifer's chest, from his heart to his abdomen, stopping before he goes any lower. "Is this okay?" 

Lucifer swallows, and there's a hesitation before he whispers, "yeah," and then a stronger, " _yes_." 

It seems like Lucifer is holding his breath, and his wings mimic the gesture by remaining completely still while Dean continues lower, feeling Lucifer's stomach contract as his fingers skirt over the muscles there, making sure Lucifer knows where his hand is the whole time. He reaches the edge of the Angel's jeans, and with a silent nod from Lucifer, unbuttons and unzips them for him, and pushes the heavy material down the other's smooth skin. 

Lucifer shivers slightly, but makes no move to stop him, just staying very still and watching Dean's face very closely. 

Once they're down far enough to be loose, Lucifer helps by kicking them the rest of the way off, and toeing his socks off too. 

Dean can sense Lucifer's apprehension, and from experience, he's sure it's just because Lucifer is overthinking it. Dean needs to distract him, keep his mind on Dean, before he psyches himself out, or something. 

He reaches up to touch Lucifer's wings again, which certainly catches Lucifer's attention, but this time Dean isn't running his fingers through the soft feathers. He pulls Lucifer's left wing inwards towards them, not harshly, but quick enough to catch Lucifer off-guard, and then he rolls them over to put Lucifer on his back without harming his wing. 

The archangel's eyes widen in shock, and as he yelps, his wings give a skittish flap, whacking against the ground. 

Dean gives him a smug grin, and Lucifer reaches up to slap his human's bare chest. "Asshole." 

The only response he gets is another kiss, which he soon relaxes into, and Dean is glad to feel the tenseness drain out of him once more. Dean pulls away after he's satisfied Lucifer isn't thinking so much anymore, and straightens up on his knees so he doesn't need his hands to hold himself up. He unzips himself quickly, and gets his own jeans off before he leans back down, kissing Lucifer's neck and pressing their almost-bare bodies flush against each other. 

Lucifer gives small, bitten-off gasps above him as he alternates between gently kissing and biting down on Lucifer's mostly-unmarked skin. (Michael and Asmodeus left a few bad marks on him, but otherwise he's been able to heal his vessel without leaving a trace that he was ever harmed.) 

The wings continue to move, despite being pinned under Lucifer's own weight, and Dean's body on top of him. Not flapping, but curling up and unfurling, tensing and relaxing, and generally looking nervous. That's fine, nervousness is normal. Dean alternates between trailing his fingers down Lucifer's skin and through his feathers, one gesture meant to be sensual, and the other meant to be soothing, and he's gratified when he's rewarded with pleasant noises falling from the archangel's lips. 

He  _really_  wants to make sure this is good for Lucifer, so he moves slowly, not doing anything too risky, and not pushing Lucifer to do anything else until he's comfortable with this. 

The archangel is quietly panting under him, and all those noises he's making are going straight to Dean's cock, still clothed and now stretching the fabric of his boxers to its limits. Dean's far ahead of Lucifer in that regard, though he can tell the angel's cock is certainly paying attention to all this too. It seems Lucifer is gonna take some more coaxing than others do, though. Maybe it's an angel thing. 

Dean does his best not to rut against Lucifer's leg or anything, not wanting to rush or spook the angel in any way. Dean's an experienced guy. He can wait. 

He devotes another several minutes to teasing Lucifer's body until the angel is really letting loose with the noises coming from his mouth, not trying to hold them back or being self-conscious about vocally himself anymore. He's even noisier than Dean's partners usually are, and the hunter  _loves_  it.  

Lucifer's wings are relaxed now, laid out lazily on the ground underneath them, many of the feathers all ruffled up and out of place from Dean carding his fingers through them.  

He  _really_  likes the wings. And Lucifer seems to like it when he touches them too, so it's a win-win. He sure hopes he can convince Lucifer to bring them out more often, or to at least have them out when they're alone. And maybe later down the line, Lucifer can find a way to show him more of himself, how he  _really_  looks. 

Once he feels like the archangel is properly loosened up, he returns his lips to his angel's, swallowing Lucifer's gasp as he finally presses his hips fully against the other's, letting Lucifer feel for himself just how much he turns Dean on. 

He feels the shiver that runs through Lucifer, and relishes it, grinding his hips down a little more pointedly. 

It's Dean's turn to moan now, and Lucifer kisses him through it, his hands moving up to cup Dean's cheeks and his lips moving almost desperately against his hunter's. 

Dean pulls back after a second, not wanting to wait another second to take the next step, but also not wanting to fuck Lucifer here, on the floor of the common area. "Luce," He starts, and his own voice sounds a bit wrecked now too, low and insistent. "My room?" 

The angel doesn't manage to form a proper word, just making an unintelligible, quiet noise that sounds vaguely like an affirmation, and Dean takes it as a yes.  

The hunter doesn't wait any longer, quickly getting to his knees and pulling Lucifer up into another kiss with him, and keeping their lips touching as he pulls them both up to their feet. Lucifer isn't quite as unsteady as another person might be after all that attention, so Dean doesn't need to carry him, but he  _wants_  to. 

Lucifer doesn't complain as Dean sweeps him off his feet, holding onto him bridal-style as he walks to his room. The archangel wraps his arms loosely around Dean's neck, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's like the human is his anchor. 

They're both breathing hard, though Lucifer a little more so. Now they're face-to-face again, Dean notices there's still a worried crease between Lucifer's brows, and he wants to kiss it away, but Lucifer turns his head just before Dean can act on that desire. The blonde starts pressing kisses to Dean's neck, and Dean certainly isn't going to complain about it. They're gentler kisses than the ones Dean gave him, but it's normal for newbies to be a bit unsure of themselves. At least he's reciprocating, acting without being prompted by Dean—that's a really good sign that Dean's doing something right. He encourages it, tilting his chin up to give Lucifer more access to his neck and collar. 

Lucifer's hands are free, so he's the one who opens the door to Dean's room, pulling his wings in as close as he can so they can make it through the door without too much difficulty. 

The angel keeps holding onto Dean even when the hunter tumbles onto the bed with him. Dean works on getting them in a comfortable position again, Lucifer still lying on his back beneath him, his wings stretched out and hanging off either side of Dean's bed. 

When he's satisfied that Lucifer is comfortable like that, with Dean's hips pressed to his (there's still that little crease between his brows and Dean wishes he could just kiss it away), he pulls back up and rests a hand on Lucifer's hip, his index finger stroking the edge of his boxer-briefs. He makes eye contact with Lucifer before he asks, "Can I take them off?" And he gets just a wordless nod in response. That crease deepens though, and Dean just wants to stop and take all Lucifer's worries away. He's going to make his angel feel  _so good_. 

Instead, he just keeps going, taking Lucifer's permission and sliding the undergarment off his angel's hips. It's the first time he's seen Lucifer completely naked, actually, and he's pleased to see that his boyfriend has a pretty decent-sized dick. Not  _big_ , but by no means small, either. Slightly above average. 

And, well, at least he doesn't have to feel self-conscious about his own size—Dean's is bigger. 

The angel is tensed up again, eyes locked on Dean while his hunter's eyes roam over his naked body. (Yes,  _his_  body, because he can neither leave this vessel, nor does he share it with anyone.) 

Dean's hand brushes just past his crotch, sending another shiver through him, but he doesn't touch Lucifer there quite yet. With Lucifer's eyes locked on him, Dean slides his own boxers down, letting his erection bounce free as the elastic releases it. Lucifer's eyes widen a bit, and he definitely looks more apprehensive than he did before. Dean's gonna have to do a bit more to get Lucifer to relax again; he can practically hear the angel's mind running away from him. Teaching Lucifer to stop thinking so much probably isn't going to be as easy as Dean had hoped. 

When both undergarments are over the edge of the bed, he leans back down to kiss his angel, since that seems to help. Kissing is normal for them, it's something Lucifer is comfortable with. It makes lucifer relax a little, but he's still more than a little bit stiff underneath Dean. 

The hunter decides he'll work on relaxing him again  _while_  he moves on to the next step. He brings his lips to Lucifer's ear, whispering his question to his angel; "Do you want to be on top or bottom, babe?" 

There's another shiver, and a pause before Lucifer cautiously answers him. "… You know what you're doing, you should top." 

Dean smiles a little at the explanation, taking it as confirmation that Lucifer's hesitance and tenseness is a result of this being new territory for him. "You sure?" 

"Yeah," comes the quick reply, followed by an audible exhale. 

"Okay," Dean pulls away from his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before he goes back to kneeling between Lucifer's legs, "you have to tell me if I'm doing anything you don't like, alright? The last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable. I'm gonna make you feel so good, Luce." 

The earnest way he says that puts a trusting smile on Lucifer's lips, and Dean's happy to see it there. He slips off the bed for a second to go grab his bottle of lube from his dresser, and a couple of the condoms he keeps near it.  

He kisses Lucifer again before he climbs back onto the bed, and drags a hand down Lucifer's side, pulling another shiver from his angel. "Do you want to be on your back or your stomach?" He asks softly, his hand stopping on Lucifer's inner thigh. On his stomach would be more comfortable, both for his ass and his wings, but it's up to Lucifer to decide if that's more important. 

"… I want to see you," comes the answer after a moment of hesitation, and Dean nods, letting his hand continue its path. He keeps his focus on how the angel moves as he touches him,  _really_  liking how Lucifer looks when he arches his back. 

He takes his time, reminding himself that Lucifer is still basically a virgin when it comes to this, and he doesn't want to touch him anywhere before he's ready for it. 

When he finally does brush a finger against Lucifer's entrance, the other squirms a bit, but doesn't protest. Dean pauses, then does it again, and this time he lets the tip of his finger press inside. Lucifer squirms a bit less this time, but the hunter hears a quiet gasp fall from his lips. 

Deciding he's ready, Dean pulls his hand away completely and grabs the bottle of lube he brought over to pour a generous amount of the cold substance onto his fingers. "Hey, Luce," he says, drawing the angel's attention away from his hands, "this is gonna feel pretty weird, but I just want you to look at me. Trust me, okay? It'll feel good in a little bit." 

The Angel nods, relaxing a little bit at the reassurance. "I trust you." 

Dean grins at the blonde, leaning down to give him another quick kiss before he gets back to work, pressing his lube-covered fingers back into the crease of Lucifer's ass and smiling at the surprised expression the angel makes. 

"It's cold," Lucifer says automatically, closing his eyes at the feeling. 

Dean doesn't stop, knowing it will warm up to match their temperature soon enough. "I know, hey, keep looking at me, okay? I know it feels weird, but you need it. It'll make everything a little easier, I promise." 

The angel's eyes open back up, and he does his best to keep eye contact with Dean, despite looking like he just wants to cover his eyes and pretend he's  _not_  having weird cold goo slathered inside his ass. 

Like the hunter knew it would, it warms up after a few seconds, and Lucifer's ass relaxes a bit more, allowing Dean to start pushing his finger fully inside the other man. He can hear the angel's breathing quicken as he does, and he uses the pace of his breath to time how quickly he pushes his finger in and out of the angel. Push in, hold two breaths, pull out, wait one breath. He starts to twist his finger as the ring of muscle loosens up, and when he thinks he can, he adds a second finger to the first without breaking his pace. 

Lucifer starts to grip the sheets once he does that, his fist twisting Dean's comforter tightly around his white-knuckled fingers. 

Just before Dean is about to slip a third finger in, the quickened breathing stops, like Lucifer is holding his breath. The hunter looks up to Lucifer's face just as the angel goes "Dean," in a quiet, strangely sad voice. "Dean, I—stop, please stop." 

He doesn't sound scared or upset, but nonetheless, Dean can't get his hands off of Lucifer fast enough. Stop means stop, regardless of how his partner is acting. "Lucifer?" He wants to put a hand on the angel's shoulder, but he doesn't want to touch Lucifer again until the other says it's okay. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? What's wrong?" He can hear the worry laced in his own voice, terrified that he'd done something to upset his angel. 

Before he's even done speaking, the blonde is shaking his head, eyes a little wide. It takes him a second, looking more than a little overwhelmed, but then Lucifer offers him a response. "I'm not hurt. You didn't hurt me. You didn't do anything wrong, I--" the archangel looks down at his hands, glaring at them. "I just… I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I thought... I didn’t care about Kelly, I was just following along, but I  _do_ care about you, and I still can’t… I don't--" 

"Lucifer," Dean interrupts him, deciding it's okay now to reach for Lucifer's shoulders, "Luce, Angel,  _slow_   _down_." He grips the blonde's shoulders, holding him still and drawing the angel's attention back to his face. "You're not making sense. What's Kelly got to do with this? Just, start again, okay?" He waits for the angel to give him a small nod, and then he squeezes his shoulder gently. "Good. And Lucifer, I love you, okay? Don't be afraid to tell me whatever it is. You can tell me anything, okay?" 

Again, he gets a small nod, and as Dean lets go of Lucifer's shoulders, the other releases a heavy exhale. He gives Dean a grateful look, and Dean gets the impression that he just said  _exactly_  what Lucifer needed to hear. The angel is looking at him like he's the answer to all his prayers, and honestly, it's kinda weirding Dean out. 

After a second or two, the blonde briefly closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before starting over, this time keeping his eyes on Dean's. "Okay. Okay... First, you didn't do  _anything_ wrong _._  This is... this is all just... me. You're amazing, and I love you, and I want you to enjoy this, and I want to do this for you. I watched videos, and tried to do things like the people in the videos do, but I…" He hesitates again, and it takes Dean nudging him for him to continue, "I just can’t enjoy it. It feels weird to me, like, wrong… it felt like that with Kelly too, but I had to do what she expected me to, and I thought maybe it was just because I wasn’t who she thought I was, and I didn’t feel anything romantic for her, but… it still feels that way, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, because everyone—even Cass—says sex is supposed to feel good, and I just… I don’t get it. I  _want_  it. I want to give that to you, I wish I enjoyed it, and I could give you what you want without lying to you and pretending I’m enjoying it as much as you are. I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m so sorry, Dean…" He couldn't keep eye contact at the end, looking back down at his hands and his still  _barely_  half-mast dick. 

Logically, Dean knows Lucifer is millions of years old, and he knows that even his vessel is older than Dean is by at least fifteen years... but at that moment, his angel looks so young and confused that Dean just wants to hold him close, kiss the sadness from his lips, and wrap him up in a hug and tell him he has an answer that will make everything better. But the fact is, he does have an answer, and he knows it won't give Lucifer the solution he thinks he wants. 

He cups the angel's cheek, stroking his thumb gently over his cheekbone. "Hey, hey, Luce, no, don't be sorry. Hey, look at me, okay? It's not your fault. No, look at me, damnit." Dean needs to get Lucifer's attention, so he cups both sides of his boyfriend's face and forces him to face him, not caring that he's still got warm lube on the fingers of one hand. "There is  _nothing_  wrong with you. Okay? Do you understand me?" He waits for a little nod before he lets go of Lucifer's face. "It's like... You know how most guys like just girls? And some like just guys? And then like me, some people like both? Well it’s like that. There’s lots of people like you, who don’t feel sexual attraction at all. It's called asexual, and it doesn't make you weird, or wrong, it just means you like different things. And that's fine, okay?" 

Of course, it makes Dean a little sad to think that Lucifer doesn't enjoy the same kind of physical attention he enjoys... but that doesn't mean he's just going to give up on what they have. Now he kinda gets it, why Lucifer has never brought sex up before now. He must've been afraid that Dean would turn him away if he found out Lucifer didn't want it. He'll just have to prove that that  _isn't_  the case. 

The way relief spreads across Lucifer's face breaks Dean's heart a little bit. Was he really so worried? Did he really think Dean was so shallow? 

And then Dean chastises himself for taking it that way, knowing there's more to it than that. Lucifer's been shunned and turned away and called a freak just about his whole life. Of  _course_  he was worried. Rejection is what he's used to. 

Still, Dean feels bad that Lucifer didn't feel like he was secure enough in their relationship to be open with this. He thought he had to  _fake_  liking it for Dean's sake. Which raises another question, and Dean can't help but blurt it out while he's still waiting for Lucifer to process all the other stuff he said. "Wait, I just... I need to know, if you don't like this, then how much of that was faked?" 

Now Dean's the one feeling insecure, because  _how did he not_ _notice_ _?_  Lucifer looks up, distracted from his thoughts, and a slight blush crosses his face. "A... a lot of it. I'm sorry. But, I do like it when you kiss me, and I like when you touch my wings, and I like being close to you, with or without clothing. That's not fake." 

A relieved smile crosses Dean's face as he hears that, glad that he wasn't  _completely_  wrong, at least. He doesn't say anything else though, waiting for Lucifer to get his thoughts together and decide if Dean's assessment was right or not. 

Lucifer takes a few more seconds to process everything Dean told him, to comprehend that not only is he not alone in this, but there's name name for it, and Dean  _still_  accepts him. When he finally looks back at Dean, he still looks a bit confused; meeting Dean's eyes very briefly before taking one of his hands and looking down at their entwined fingers. "But if you're right, and I'm... Asexual," He pauses there, like he's trying the word out and deciding he isn't quite sure how he feels about it, "if I don't feel sexual attraction, how is it that I still love you? Because, I do. I do love you, Dean, that's real. I  _know_  it is." his voice is earnest as he looks back up at his hunter, almost as if he's afraid Dean won't believe him.   
   
Dean smiles a little, and takes a moment to reposition them, since it’s pretty weird to have this conversation while he’s still between Lucifer's legs. He pulls them both back up to a sitting position, tucking his legs underneath him while lucifer crosses his Indian-style. “And I still love you, Lucifer. You just don’t love me in a sexual way, and that’s fine.” His lips quirk up on one side a bit, “just means I’m more than a pretty face to you. And, well,” he glances down at his still  _very_  erect cock, “obviously, I’m attracted to you sexually, but I love you for more than that too, so we’ll just have to figure it out. If you aren’t comfortable with having sex, that’s okay, we won’t. I don’t want to make you do anything you won’t enjoy, okay? If you just feel like kissing, then we’ll just kiss. Alright?” 

Lucifer's eyes light up at the sound of that, and Dean can't help but feel his own smile widen even more. "Yes," the angel says almost too quickly, "I'd very much like to keep kissing you. But, I, um, I feel bad about..." Lucifer glances down at Dean's crotch, which is explanation enough.   
   
“Don’t,” Dean tells his angel firmly, "you don’t need to feel bad. It wouldn’t be the first time I moved too fast with someone, or started something before they were ready, and had to go take a shower and finish myself off. I’m a grown man, I'll be fine.”   
   
Lucifer nods in understanding, but grabs Dean's wrist before the other can slide off the bed. “Wait, you can stay here, and er, ‘finish’ with me, I don’t mind. Watching doesn't make me uncomfortable.” He pauses, giving Dean a little smile, “and we can kiss; I really like kissing you.”   
   
And Dean smiles back, glad that they’re already finding a middle ground for this. And, well... he knows he can definitely get off from just kissing and being near Lucifer, with just a little help from his hand. “That sounds like an awesome plan, Luce.”  

And then he’s kissing his boyfriend, and everything is right again. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the little one-shot I promised my readers over at Resilience I'd write; just a fluffy little fic with Sad Gay Ace™ Lucifer Crushing on Dean, and Dean being a good supportive boyfriend who cares lots and lots about his precious Ace angel.
> 
> If you like Ducifer, and want something with a slower burn, you should definitely try that fic on for size. <3
> 
> Comments give me life, please let me know what you think!


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